When Loyalties lie waiting
by equine02
Summary: After an incident on a routine patrol, Tully must find his way all alone to an abondoned German truck in the desert-. If he fails, Moffitt dies at the hands of a German soldier whose name they do not know.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! So here is a new RP story, hope you like it. All I can say is, poor Tully, how I love to torture him. You'll see whatHi guys! So here is a new RP story, hope you like it. All I can say is, poor Tully, how I love to torture him. You'll see what I mean in later : )

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Tully Pettigrew squinted against the scorching African blaze. Since five AM this morning, he and Moffitt had been out patrolling the area. Hitch was back in the hospital after taking a bullet to the arm, and Troy was currently catching up on some long needed rest after a particularly hard mission a few days ago. Moffitt and Tully were deemed fit to take on this patrol alone.

Suddenly, Moffitt jolted, as if he had been sleeping and was now awake, and turned to Tully.

"What's the matter, Sarge?"

"I'm not sure. It was there one moment…. And then-" he handed Tully the binoculars. "Look for yourself."

"What am I looking at?" the Private finally lowered the binoculars, glancing at Moffitt.

"That's exactly my point. Two minutes ago I could have sworn there was a person out there…. I know there was." he looked again.

"Do you think it's one of those desert illusions?"

"A marage you mean? It could be, but that usually only happens when you're delusional."

"Well Sarge when you-"

"-knock it off, Tully. I know I saw someone."

"You sure?" Tully squinted again, shading his eyes with his hand. "I still don't see anything."

"Positive. Well there's one way to find out. Come on, get in the Jeep."

"Sarge, there could be more of them, it could be bait-"

"Tully, if there is someone out there- and I'm certain there is- I intend to find out who they are, and what they're doing. Get going."

Tully shook his head and climbed into the driver's seat. These Brits were just too picky about who walked on their sand…..

…

"Should be over this next dune!" yelled Moffitt over the noise of the engine, "We'll go on foot!"

Tully killed the engine and hopped out, followed by Moffitt. They both held their Thompsons close, creeping low to the ground.

"Get down." Moffitt nudged Tully, and they both dropped.

Slowly, they crawled up the dune, and Tully recoiled at what was on the other side. A man lay freshly dead, an American. Blood saturated his entire torso and the ground around him. Moffitt looked on as the wind blew several sheet-like layers of sand over the body, partially covering it. Tully was about to stand up, when suddenly a hand fell onto his wrist, and it wasn't Moffitt's.

"Looks like now I have a ride." The German accented voice was raspy from lack of water, but his grip was surprisingly strong. He waved his own rifle at them. "Throw them away, and get up, but slowly."

Tully, still in shock and wondering just how the obviously handicapped man had managed to sneak up on them, obeyed, and very slowly. Moffitt glanced at him, and at the his Thomson laying a few feet away? This man would be slow, exhausted from dehydration-

"Don't try, American. Don't even try." The young man stood up shakily, "you are going to help me…" he steadied himself, "To get home."

"Behind German lines… that's got to be pretty far away." Moffitt replied, never breaking his gaze with the German.

"No, we're not going behind German lines. We are going to the nearest… what is the word you say?"

"Ocean?" Moffitt suggested. Tully rolled his eyes.

"How 'bout a cliff?"

"Why would I need a cliff?" the German was puzzled.

"Too jump off of." He whistled, like the sound of falling, and mimicked landing with the toe of his boot. Smack! Onto the burning sand.

The German of course had no idea what the private was saying, so ignored him and turned the Moffitt. "What you said, the ocean." He got a slightly faraway look in his eyes, but snapped back quickly. "Where is your vehicle?"

"Over there." Moffitt pointed" But you know, the ocean is as far, if not further away than the German lines…. We wouldn't get there for days. What's to stop us from taking you to our base?"

"This is." His slammed the muzzle of his rifle onto Moffitt's jaw. "Get moving."

I mean in later : )

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Tully Pettigrew squinted against the scorching African blaze. Since five AM this morning, he and Moffitt had been out patrolling the area. Hitch was back in the hospital after taking a bullet to the arm, and Troy was currently catching up on some long needed rest after a particularly hard mission a few days ago. Moffitt and Tully were deemed fit to take on this patrol alone.

Suddenly, Moffitt jolted, as if he had been sleeping and was now awake, and turned to Tully.

"What's the matter, Sarge?"

"I'm not sure. It was there one moment…. And then-" he handed Tully the binoculars. "Look for yourself."

"What am I looking at?" the Private finally lowered the binoculars, glancing at Moffitt.

"That's exactly my point. Two minutes ago I could have sworn there was a person out there…. I know there was." he looked again.

"Do you think it's one of those desert illusions?"

"A marage you mean? It could be, but that usually only happens when you're delusional."

"Well Sarge when you-"

"-knock it off, Tully. I know I saw someone."

"You sure?" Tully squinted again, shading his eyes with his hand. "I still don't see anything."

"Positive. Well there's one way to find out. Come on, get in the Jeep."

"Sarge, there could be more of them, it could be bait-"

"Tully, if there is someone out there- and I'm certain there is- I intend to find out who they are, and what they're doing. Get going."

Tully shook his head and climbed into the driver's seat. These Brits were just too picky about who walked on their sand…..

…

"Should be over this next dune!" yelled Moffitt over the noise of the engine, "We'll go on foot!"

Tully killed the engine and hopped out, followed by Moffitt. They both held their Thompsons close, creeping low to the ground.

"Get down." Moffitt nudged Tully, and they both dropped.

Slowly, they crawled up the dune, and Tully recoiled at what was on the other side. A man lay freshly dead, an American. Blood saturated his entire torso and the ground around him. Moffitt looked on as the wind blew several sheet-like layers of sand over the body, partially covering it. Tully was about to stand up, when suddenly a hand fell onto his wrist, and it wasn't Moffitt's.

"Looks like now I have a ride." The German accented voice was raspy from lack of water, but his grip was surprisingly strong. He waved his own rifle at them. "Throw them away, and get up, but slowly."

Tully, still in shock and wondering just how the obviously handicapped man had managed to sneak up on them, obeyed, and very slowly. Moffitt glanced at him, and at the his Thomson laying a few feet away? This man would be slow, exhausted from dehydration-

"Don't try, American. Don't even try." The young man stood up shakily, "you are going to help me…" he steadied himself, "To get home."

"Behind German lines… that's got to be pretty far away." Moffitt replied, never breaking his gaze with the German.

"No, we're not going behind German lines. We are going to the nearest… what is the word you say?"

"Ocean?" Moffitt suggested. Tully rolled his eyes.

"How 'bout a cliff?"

"Why would I need a cliff?" the German was puzzled.

"Too jump off of." He whistled, like the sound of falling, and mimicked landing with the toe of his boot. Smack! Onto the burning sand.

The German of course had no idea what the private was saying, so ignored him and turned the Moffitt. "What you said, the ocean." He got a slightly faraway look in his eyes, but snapped back quickly. "Where is your vehicle?"

"Over there." Moffitt pointed" But you know, the ocean is as far, if not further away than the German lines…. We wouldn't get there for days. What's to stop us from taking you to our base?"

"This is." His slammed the muzzle of his rifle onto Moffitt's jaw. "Get moving."


	2. Chapter 2

**So I was listening to the soundtrack of War Horse, and it inspired me to post another chapter: ) this is for Sgt. Saunders143, a gift to ya, my pal, because yes, I know, poor Tully, I have ignored him way too long. I hope it turns out okay!**

 **BTW, random readers, I have never seen the movie War Horse, but am getting it from the library, so don't spoil anything for me, if you happen to mention it in the reviews because of my previous note!**

 **Everyone let me know how your Christmas and New Year's was in the reviews, and tell me what you think of this, please!**

 **Disclaimer: Although the caffeine in my system is begging me to say that I do, I have no ownership to these guys…. However, this does give me a level of freedom- they are not mine, so I can torture them without feeling like I just killed a puppy…**

The jeep rattled along over the sand loudly, never quieting for a moment to allow for complete silence. However, it's passengers were silent, tension stirring in the depths of the two American minds, and determination in the German one.

Finally, Tully killed the engine.

"Why have you stopped?" The German glanced up.

"The ocean," he pointed to a blanket of endless groves and shadowed indents comprised completely of sand, "is that way. But we'd better stop here and make camp. The sun's setting."

"Keep going."

"I don't think-"

"Keep going!" the German yelled, and rammed his rife-butt into Tully's shoulder.

The Private felt something give, and a resounding snap could be heard. The young German's eyes grew wide, realizing what he'd just done as Tully's head snapped backwards in agony.

"I think…. You….." Tully grimaced, and tried to move his hand to probe the area; but he couldn't. Every movement hurt him.

"Let me see it," Moffitt finally spoke. The German nodded once, shortly with- was it? Yes, maybe a little concern in his eyes. Moffitt had seen this kind of soldier before. Green. Fresh off the press, and not sure of what was too far.

"Tully, the collarbone is broken, and it's not a clean break. I don't think it's the kind of thing I can set here and now- it's best if you wear your arm in a sling." Moffitt announced after examining the offending area.

"In a sling? I can't drive if I have to wear a sling." Tully realized, sharing a look with Moffitt. He tried to re-adjust his position in the seat, but it hurt too much. He closed his eyes.

Tully was jolted in a sudden flash of agony, and when his vision cleared, he heard a shot- Moffitt must have tried to-

"Don't move, not either of you!"

Tully took in the scene. It would seem that Moffitt had tried to jump the German, to grab his gun. Moffitt lay on his side in the sand, eyes closed. Even if he had wanted to move, it was apparent that that wouldn't be happening any time soon. Tully groaned and shifted, watching the young German carefully.

"Get him in the vehicle." He ordered.

Tully struggled, eventually making it out of his seat. Slowly, he made his way to Moffitt. But unfortunately, the Englishman was much heavier than Tully anticipated, and his shoulder already throbbed with agonizing pain at every move. He collapsed onto his knees after the third try.

"I can't…. he's too heavy…." Tully looked up, "Hey why do you need us? We'll only slow you down, won't we?" he wondered, and only after he'd thought it did he realize it had been said aloud.

"I need you to drive the vehicle. I need you to get past your people. To get on a boat and to a new place. And I need you to help me escape."

"Escape?"

"From the Nazi army. I am finished with killing. It sickens me. I do not want to hurt people anymore."

"Well you did a good job on him. On me."

"It was a mistake." He admitted, "Now it is one you must help me correct. You will go back where we came. You will follow this chart," he handed Tully a crumpled-up piece of paper that he drew from his pocket, "And you will find the vehicle I left behind. It will not take you long; a day. You will need little water, and I will give it to you."

"Why did you leave it? The truck… eh, 'vehicle'?" Tully was curious to know.

"It was too…. Big. And I needed you, to get me where I needed to go…. In an American vehicle."

"How do I find it?"

"You have eyes, you have the chart, so go!"

"What if I don't?"

"Then I will shoot him again."

"I thought you said you didn't like killing-"

The German aimed his gun. "I will not hesitate to make this one sacrifice."

"For yourself?"

"Perhaps. Now go."

Tully nodded, and stood up to walk over to the jeep.

"No. It stays with me. You will walk."

"But that's not-"

"-I am prepared to shoot this man."

Tully glanced at Moffitt. He'd never seen the man look so weak or helpless, not in all the time he'd known him. No, Moffitt wasn't one to show that side of himself. And so, Tully could not help but follow his example.

"Alright. But if I do this, I want to know what your name is."

"It's Josef Derrhaup. Why do you want to know?"

Tully turned and looked over his shoulder. "I don't like looking trouble in the face and not knowing his name."

And with these last words to the enemy, he gave what could be a last look at Moffitt, and began walking into the desert, on a journey as hopeless as what lay behind him.

 **Dun dun dun dun! Tell me what you thought, and yes, I'm sorry it's short, but dinner is calling me! Next chapter will be longer, I promise!**


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